


The New Recruit

by Krissielee



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4503447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krissielee/pseuds/Krissielee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You want me to do what?”</p>
<p>Eggsy is put in charge of putting the new recruits through their paces. There's more than one familiar face in the crowd, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Recruit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cyn_ful](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyn_ful/gifts).



> For cyn_ful, like so many of my fics are. <3 She prompts me plenty, haha. It was supposed to be a short little fluff piece! It's still short, but not as short as I'd planned!
> 
> Eggsy's speech is almost verbatim what Merlin said in the movie, so I can't claim credit there. I'm just that (un)creative.

Eggsy picked up the folder Merlin dropped before him, flipping through it before looking up at the man, scoffing. “You want me to do what?”

“Put the new recruits through their paces,” Merlin said, eyes on his clipboard. “You’re capable of it, and I’ve got enough to do without wrangling a bunch of children.”

Okay, sure, Eggsy could buy that—the world had only just started getting back to normal, nearly a year after V-Day. The agents who were still left were almost all out on missions constantly, mopping up messes and trying to help reinstate some sort of interim government to run in the stead of the various heads of state who didn’t even _have_ heads now. Merlin was handler on at least six missions at any given time, in addition to being Kingsman’s own interim leader. But that didn’t mean Eggsy was able to run training, and he told Merlin as much.

“Everything’s in there: how each task should play out, and how to weed out the stragglers,” Merlin said. “Consider this your alternative final test, Galahad.” Eggsy winced. He knew he wasn’t living up to Harry’s legacy, and Merlin took some sick pleasure out of reminding him of that fact, clearly.

“You’re a cruel man, Merlin,” Eggsy sighed. Merlin was nonplussed. “Fine. Sure. When are they gettin’ here?”

“Tonight.”

Of fucking course.

\--

Eggsy read through the file folder, though he well remembered exactly what would happen once the recruits were all asleep. He stood around outside the door, dressed in the suit Harry’d had made for him—yeah, he had others, now, but that one was still his favourite—and ushered the new recruits in. The agents made their escape, and Eggsy promised to keep them all apprised of how their recruits did through training. And once everyone was there, Eggsy headed into the room. He remembered how overwhelming it was when Merlin spoke, when he’d been completely out of his depth and he’d honestly believed that body bag was going to hold him by the end of training.

“Fall in,” Eggsy said, voice crisp as posh as he looked down at the clipboard, making note of the names he saw. They were all a bunch of posh pricks, but maybe they’d not all be classist toffs. He heard them all scramble to line up, and it was then that Eggsy lifted his eyes, almost stuttering over his speech. “Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Galahad.”

Clearly he was hallucinating. “You are about to embark on what is probably the most dangerous job interview in the world.” There were seven unfamiliar faces looking up at him. “One of you, and only one of you, will become the next Tristan.” And two— _two_!—familiar ones. Amelia, and …

“Can anybody tell me what this is?” Eggsy still had nightmares about the other familiar face being stuffed into a similar body bag in Kentucky. One of the girls raised her hand and answered, and Eggsy nodded. “Correct. In a moment, you will each collect a body bag. You will write your name on that bag. You will write the details of your next of kin on that bag.” His mother was going to have to bury another man because of this fucking agency, because Eggsy was going to have a heart attack to go with his seeing of men who weren’t really there. 

“This represents your acknowledgement of the risks that you’re about to face, as well as your agreement to strict confidentiality—which incidentally, if you break, will result in you, and your next of kin, being in that bag. Is that understood? Excellent. Fall out.” 

The recruits set about filling out the forms, and Eggsy hurried out of the room, the hallucination of Harry hot on his heels. Once the door was closed behind them, Eggsy turned back. “You’re dead.”

“Nearly.”

“No, you—you can’t be here. I saw you die.” Every night in his nightmares, he saw it.

Harry shook his head. “No, Eggsy—Galahad. Believe me, you’re not the only one who thought so. But I was taken to hospital, and a few months ago, I contacted Merlin, who brought me home.”

Eggsy looked at Harry, really looked at him. He looked older, more tired, a knot of scarring over his left eye where Valentine’s bullet had hit him. But none of that excused him from Eggsy’s anger. “You mean to tell me you’ve been _here_ for months an’ you didn’t tell me?”

“Merlin and I felt it better to let you grow into the fine agent I knew you would,” Harry said, and it was then that Eggsy noticed the man’s cane; he was leaning heavily on it, as though standing was difficult. When he turned to walk down the hall, Eggsy kept pace. “My recovery was very tenuous, and I didn’t expect you to sit vigil as you did during my last stay in hospital.”

“Selfish old bastard,” Eggsy said. “You didn’t give me a choice in the matter. I thought the last thin’ I’d ever hear from you was that I was a fuckup—the fuck, Harry?”

At least Harry looked apologetic as he led Eggsy into an office—Arthur’s old office, if memory served. “I cannot apologise for the past, Eggsy. I would like it if we could move forward.” He sat down in Arthur’s chair, and Eggsy made a point of sitting without waiting for an invitation.

“You wasn’t supposed to leave me,” Eggsy said after a moment. “It was supposed to work out, for once in my life.” After all, Eggsy had spent nearly a year trying to break his stupid crush on his mentor. He’d known it would never happen then, and he knew it wouldn’t happen now, but that didn’t stop him from imagining what would happen if he just wrapped his arms around Harry and held on for dear life.

Or imagining what would happen if he punched Harry for all the trouble he’d caused in Eggsy’s life. Of course, Harry was a trained spy, able to kill men and women when necessary—Eggsy probably didn’t stand a chance if he acted on that impulse.

“I won’t leave you again,” Harry said softly, so softly that Eggsy almost missed it for his own thoughts. Somehow, hearing it only made Eggsy angrier.

“Fuck off,” Eggsy said. “Why should I believe that now? It didn’t bring you back when you said you’d be back before, did it?” He stood up, pacing the room a bit, fists clenching, needing something to distract. He moved over to the liquor cabinet—it was probably a few hundred years old, knowing Kingsman—and poured himself a hearty snifter of that fuckin’ 1815 Napoleonic brandy, and fuck the tradition. He had plenty to mourn, he thought as he upended the glass, then threw the rest of the bottle at the wall. It shattered, the golden liquid a satisfying puddle on the floor. “Just—fuck you, Harry,” he finished, biting his tongue instead of saying everything he wanted.

And then there were arms wrapped around him from behind, Harry’s breath against his ear as he whispered another apology. Eggsy broke, tears spilling down his cheeks without his consent. 

Eggsy hadn’t cried in years. He hadn’t cried when Dean had busted his arm in two places. He hadn’t cried when he’d had to sell his goddamned _plasma_ to make rent. He hadn’t even cried when his dad had died. He’d always been the strong one for everyone else.

But he was crying now. And Harry wasn’t letting him go. “You was jus’ like my dad,” he whispered. “You was _gone_.”

“I’m here,” Harry murmured, and Eggsy sank to the ground, defeated. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not even going out on missions anymore. You won’t have to worry.”

Eggsy scrubbed at his eyes roughly, shaking his head. He didn’t want to be so weak in front of his mentor—his _ex_ -mentor. “Dad was s’posed to come back. You was s’posed to come back. I—I need to go. The recruits—” he lied. He knew nobody would be asleep just yet, and he wasn’t needed back until then. But Harry let go, and Eggsy scrambled away, dashing out the door and sprinting through the halls to put some distance between the two of them. 

At least he knew for sure Merlin had it in for him, springing Harry on him like that.

He made it back to the dorms, into that hidden room to watch the recruits as they readied themselves for bed and got settled. Eggsy was glad it was boring for the moment. He had enough to think about, and it definitely didn’t help when Merlin came to check on his progress.

“You ain’t exactly someone I want to see right now,” Eggsy warned, staring into the dorm so he wouldn’t have to face the other man. “You fuckin’ lied to me.”

“I thought you’d be happy,” Merlin said, taking Eggsy’s clipboard and looking at the notes the younger man had scrawled when meeting the recruits. “Harry’s alive and well.”

“An’ it took me a year to get over it the first time,” Eggsy spat. “You damn well know that. So now I have to go through that again. Yeah, that’s a happy scenario.” 

“We agreed that it was best,” Merlin said. “You needed to focus on becoming an agent. Likely you’d have placed higher throughout your own training had you not spent your study time in Harry’s hospital room.” Eggsy shrugged. That was possible, but it wasn’t the point. 

“If you don’t want to see me anymore, I’ll stay out of your way whenever possible.” Eggsy spun to face Harry, who was standing just behind Merlin, hidden from Eggsy’s determination to look anywhere but at the recruits. 

Eggsy bit his lip, sighing deeply, shoulders slumped. “Look, let me drown these toffs, Harry. I—gimme some time, can’t you?” He was pissed, he was hurting, and he was tired. He thought he might have seen a flash of pain in Harry’s eyes, but the man was nothing if not a gentleman, and he merely nodded.

“Of course. I’ll be in my office,” he said, and Merlin followed him out. Eggsy took a deep breath, fiddling with the controls to start filling the room with water. He really hoped none of them were dumb enough to _actually_ die; he didn’t feel like dealing with that mess on top of everything else.

Everyone but Amelia caught onto the idea of loo snorkels, and Eggsy waited until she looked sufficiently “dead” to drain the room and re-enter through the door. He was pretty sure he’d been the only candidate in history to bust through the two-way glass, but there was no time for pride; he had to make the group fear a death that likely would not befall any of them.

He made his way through the speech, showed them to a new room for the night, then made his way back to Harry’s office. He didn’t knock, just slowly pushed the door open. Harry was there, turning a glass in his hand, so reminiscent of that first night, that moment when Eggsy’s life changed for the better. “Right, then. You’d better have a damn good reason for keepin’ me in the dark for months,” he said, flopping onto the couch opposite Harry, defiance in his body language so clearly that it was a wonder Harry didn’t comment on it. Maybe he actually did feel bad about the situation.

“I was in bad form for a long time, Eggsy. I didn’t even want to look at myself, much less see the pity you’d have when you looked at me,” Harry admitted. “I care too much for you to let you see me like that.”

Eggsy scoffed. “Guv, I’ve seen worse’n anything you could throw at me down in my part o’ town.” And it was true: even just between his mum and Dean, he’d seen her nearly killed when he was too young to hold his own against the arse.

“You might not like my reason, but it’s the truth,” Harry said. “I could barely walk, couldn’t speak without stuttering. And you are too precious to me to see me in such a state.”

That stopped Eggsy. “Precious?”

Harry finished the brandy and nodded, eyes meeting Eggsy’s over the rim of the glass. “Incredibly so.”

Eggsy swallowed, thinking about that. He didn’t tear his eyes from Harry’s, though, and he had some certainly irrational hope that “precious” meant “love.”

“If you ever die on me again,” he said slowly, voice a bit broken from all the emotion he was holding back, “I’ll fuckin’ kill you myself.”

Harry smiled, reaching out a hand to the younger man. Eggsy gladly took it; he’d had so few opportunities to touch Harry even before, and he was going to take advantage. He sat down beside the man, and Harry went so far as to press a kiss to the back of Eggsy’s hands. “You’ll never need to. I plan to live a long, full life, with my only worry being where in the world you are,” he promised.

**Author's Note:**

> So according to the internet, that bottle Eggsy broke? Yeah. That's about ten thousand dollars smashed. *dies a little*
> 
> Also, I am now over on [tumblr](http://krissielee.tumblr.com/), so come follow me! I have very few followers 'cause I'm too stupid for tumblr, haha.


End file.
